Quintessential Miscreant and Marauder
by Bedraggled Atelier 2
Summary: AU Remus Lupin is a squib, branded as a werewolf. He is shunned by the wizarding community and an outcast among the werewolves on the reservation. A fake Hogwarts letter propels him to Knockturn Alley, where he witnesses a murder and is recruited by Greyback. Meanwhile, Sirius lives with Uncle Alphard, who inherits the Black family's fortune and manor, after death of parents. SBRL
1. Chapter 1

"I'll get the mail, Mum!" Remus shouted, already bounding out the door, too quick for his mother to give him the talk but not fast enough to miss the furrow between his mother's eyebrows.

There was evidence to suspect that Remus was an average, non-magical boy, but he didn't want to be average. He wanted to be like the wizards in the history books and fairy tales, soaring through the skies on well crafted brooms, taming dragons, and enchanting the world with a flick of a wrist. He was already twelve, a year after most children had received their Hogwarts letters, but the boy still believed that there was a chance it would arrive one of these days. It was the summer, after all, the ideal time to be on the look out for admission letters.

Getting the mail was once a task met with great anticipation. Before he would even leave the house, Remus could foresee whether that anticipation would end well, even with his lack of talent in divination, for the Lupin family were often recipients of good news. For a brief time, Remus flirted with the idea of foreseeing the future and making prophecies that guided ordinary people into quest for the extraordinary and good. Alas, those were daydreams, creations of the mind, not those built into reality as he was reminded today.

The mailbox was empty.

A dispirited Remus gripped the lid of the mailbox and lowered it until it clicked into place. Remus was thankful that the Lupin family had lived on the outskirts of the wizarding community. Failing to receive a Hogwarts letter felt humiliating enough without their presence. When he entered through the same doors he exited, Remus said nothing, giving his mother a quick smile on the way to his room. Announcements weren't needed. It had started to happen so often that he wasn't sure why he didn't just expect it.

An hour later, he awoke to a sharp knock at his door followed by the twist of his door knob. He groggily opened his eyes and shifted so that he faced the door but didn't bother getting up. His mother walked in.

"Mom?" Remus said, trying to adjust his eyes to the dark. It was much darker now than it had been when he started reading 'Hogwarts, A History.' His mother had left the door ajar, and the boy could see his father's shadow wandering around near the staircase.

"Hello, Dad!" Remus called to his father, whose shadow paused. His mother looked over her shoulder with a smile.

"Hello, Remus, how's your day been?" His father replied. The older Lupin seemed quite content downstairs, most likely making his way to the kitchen for a snack.

Remus groaned. "Awful."

"I'm sorry?" said his father.

"He said it was awful, dear," said his mother.

"Oh? Was it...you know?" asked his father.

"Well, it was something," said his mother, loud enough so they could both hear it. "we can discuss after dinner."

Remus hadn't realized how hungry he was until he took the first bite. You would think he was starving the way he devoured the potatoes.

"Love the chicken. Very moist," his father said in between bites.

"Thank you. I thought I overcooked it a bit," said the Misses Lupin.

"No, no, it's delicious," assured his father. "Very good. Right, Remus?"

Remus looked up and said, "I haven't had the chicken yet, but I'm sure it's great. The potatoes are fantastic."

Halfway through the meal, his father paused. "About that 'something,' was it perhaps, er, the monthly?"

"No," Remus began. "It's not that, but the full moon is next week. I just checked the mail today, and I didn't get my letter."

His father and mother exchanged looks before his mother put her cutlery down. "Remus, your dad and I were thinking of having you homeschooled."

"That isn't possible for magical arts," Remus said, perplexed. "Is it?"

"No," His mother started slowly. "But it is possible for muggle education."

"Muggle?" Remus repeated. Him in the muggle world? All he knew was the wizarding world. "D'you think I'm a squib then?"

"You haven't done any magic. You're twelve now, and there wasn't any Hogwarts letter when you were eleven. We've got no choice, Remus. But it could be good. The muggle are completely unaware of werewolves. Oh, they think they're fairy tale characters."

"Imagine going off on the full moon. They'll think it's just a dog," pipped his father.

* * *

Disappointment was far worse than Remus could have imagined, especially when family visited for the winter holidays. He wasn't completely comfortable with his father's side of the family, the magical side. And they weren't completely comfortable with him. Being a werewolf and squib was a combo met with trepidation and hesitation, the uncertain glances and nervousness around him. Not to mention embarrassment. But it was important to his father to have familial ties, and Remus hoped that those relationships could extend to him. Merlin knows he needed socialization as did his parents. His condition often forced their family to move, making it difficult for him or his parents to make friends with neighbors.

The easy part was to friendly. He quite liked his cousins. They were the cheery sort. The hard part was seeing them with wands when he would never have one.

Remus found it quite difficult to subdue the rising envy that grappled with his conscious for control when he saw wizarding children, much like himself but older, displaying magical abilities with the flick of their wrist.

"You don't have to use magic for everything," Remus said to his cousins while washing the dishes after the dinner party, his words coming out more bitter than he had intended.

"Sorry, Remus, it's just so easy," said his cousin, lightly. With a flick of his wrist and a word, the wizard had cleared all the dishes expect the one that remained his Remus's hands. Washing the pile of dishes had taken his magical cousin less time than Remus took washing that single plate.

Remus took in the cleaned, ceramic dishes stacked neatly on the counter and felt like glumness melt away. _What's there to feel bad about? They've done my chores for me._

His cousins had returned to Hogwarts to finish the remainder of their year, overwhelmed by the qualifications they needed to pass to fulfill the requirements of becoming an auror or getting a cushion job in the Ministry of Magic. He knew them, once, when they were all younger, before he had been bitten. They seemed like complete strangers now.

"Wish me luck, Remus," said his cousin, who he couldn't seem to remember by name no matter how hard he tried.

"Good luck on your exams," beamed Remus. "With a bit of studying, you'll do fine."

* * *

Luckily for Remus, he received his Hogwarts letter as he had hoped. The read over the letter and re-read it, skimming through the second entire to take each world as it was written on paper.

"Dear Mr. Lupin," Remus read. "We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

His parents were out back, minding the garden. They had decided to try farming in order to stay at home for Remus's education, having noticed their son's strong interest in a magical education even as a squib. Remus thought it was successful, for the most part, but not without the help of their neighbor, an aging widower, who lived quite a walk away.

Remus brought the letter to his parents, who were apprehensive about its authenticity. He read the contents to them, hoping to reassure them, but his parents noticed a flaw. The letter had noted that he had until July 30 to reply, and there were 31 days in the month of July.

"I saw that, but I didn't think anything of it. Maybe the deputy Headmaster made a mistake," said Remus, searching his parents eyes for reassurance.

"I've never heard of Hogwarts making a mistake in their letters. It's magically written," said his father. "And here, it has someone's name, but it's definitely not the deputy Headmaster. Familiar, though. There's more of a chance that...it's...a fake letter."

His mother looked down at the letter again and then up at Remus, sadly. "Look, Remus..."

"Mum, I'm fine," said Remus, suddenly feeling tired. "Is there a way we can find out if it's real?"

"This is more than enough evidence that it isn't real," said his father.

Remus nodded, downhearted, and made to leave but turned, upon realizing that his father still held his letter. "Can I have that back?"

His father eyed his cautiously, as if he wasn't sure what to say. "Remus, maybe we should toss it."

"I'd like to keep it," said Remus, quietly.

His father nodded, handing him the letter. Remus folded the letter and tucked it back into the envelope. It felt like he was re-wrapping a gift he truly wanted and truly believed was his. Possibly the worst feeling was getting attached to something that wasn't his to begin with. Three tall bookshelves that lined one side of his room, and there was a empty space, much rarer now than ever with his ever growing collection of textbooks and novels, almost like it was made for the letter. He tucked it into the corner and stepped away, looking at it from a distance.

His room was covered with different shades of brown and red, warm tones. The quilt on his bed was too warm now that summer had arrived in its full, sunburning capacity so he was folding it to be stored until winter. The fan was on, as it had been all night. Electric, yes, a familiar convenience to his mother but completely foreign to his magical father. Remus turned it off and opened the window instead, letting fresh air and sunlight into his humid room. He could just barely see the top of the neighbor's house from afar, a tiny speck with greens around it. The rest was hidden by a thick growth of trees. The area around outside of that was flatlands, made for farming and roads too thin to have been made with frequent travelers in mind. This village was almost empty, hardly one at all, more a game of connecting the dots closest to each other.

It was quiet now, but extremely noisy in the morning. He wondered if the werewolf's howl would bring suspicion on the family, expecting complaints to come pouring in from the neighbors. For a while, no one suspected a thing, all believing in the lie that they had a very fussy dog. No one really cared to visit.

He could see his parents from his window. _You've done everything for me_ , Remus thought, feeling grateful for their assistance and support, but he wondered briefly how long this type of lifestyle would last before it took a toll on them.

With a sigh, he left his room and headed downstairs.

His lessons had been cut short the next day, the rest to be postponed until a later date, as his parents needed to make a trip into town. That left him with time for self-study, and he spent hours devoted to reading about the muggle and magical world until he happened upon a passage that was highly prejudiced against werewolves. Guilt and shame consumed him. He was a werewolf, a highly dangerous creature, but he didn't feel evil. Did those who were evil know that they were? What did that make him then? Was he? Or was he not?

He looked up at the letter again.

 _I can't go there. They'll hate me._ Remus thought. He reached for the letter and traced the words with his hand. Inside the envelope was another letter that Remus had neglected to read. There was a section on required items with a small paragraph for those to read if they required assistance acquiring the items. "Why not?" Remus said, outloud.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 _Hello,_

 _I used to inhabit this site frequently a few years ago, attempting to write a SBRL story and an alternate universe story. Not so sure if either worked considering that I had limited life experience and a non-existent love life. The SBRL story was cut short. Partly because I didn't know how people actually fell in love besides the temporary crushes and partly because I prone to getting off topic._

 _u/1639452/Bedraggled-Atelier_

 _I do not have access to my email that I used then so I'm going to just republish it here._

 _Quintessential Miscreant and Marauder:_

 _Remus Lupin is a squib, branded as a werewolf. He is shunned by the wizarding community and an outcast among the werewolves on the reservation. A fake Hogwarts letter propels him to Knockturn Alley, where he witnesses a murder and is recruited by Greyback. Meanwhile, Sirius lives with Uncle Alphard, who inherits the Black family's fortune and manor, after death of parents._

 _Several years passes, yet Remus still cannot mix with his fellow werewolves. A feud for land between centaurs and werewolves rages on as the Ministry withholds more land from the surrounding creatures. Mature, male wolves are required to service; the rest take refuge. One day, Remus wanders too from his surrogate mother and meets Sirius, who mistakes him as a Hogwart's keeper. Remus then occasionally enters the Hogwart's grounds to "bump" into Sirius even going so far as sneaking to a G. Quidditich match, their toughest game of the year. As he wanders farther into Hogwarts, his fascination with wizards increases. Can he trust the wizarding kind when they have shown great inclination towards the oppression of magical beings?_


	2. Chapter 2

Remus had found himself in Knockturn Alley quite easily. The floo system had worked exactly as how it was written in text. A little powder, his destination, and he was in, but the trip proved to be fatal. The wizards and witches that flocked to the alley were grotesque in their nature and seemed on the brink of insanity.

"Come here, darling, poor little lost thing," a witch cooed. She looked to be about eighty years old with her white, wild hair and blood-shot eyes. Her smile gave Remus the chills, and he had hoped to avoid her, muttering an excuse as he strided pass her, but her long, spiny fingers wrapped around his wrist with an iron-like grip. It felt there was only bones in her hands.

"Ow," Remus hissed. "Let go, please."

His attempted to yank his hand free, but the aging woman was stronger than she appeared.

"Little werewolf," she whispered, her putrid breath waffing over him.

His eyes widened. "I'm not," he denied.

"Oh, but you are," she said, unrelenting on her grip. "I can help you."

"You can't," Remus said. "I'm not... I'm not a werewolf."

She smiled, showing off her yellow, straight teeth. "It must have been such a burden. But I can help you."

Remus thought quickly. If he agreed, would she release him? And when she did, he intended to sprint away as far as he could, quicker than her old legs could take her.

He nodded slowly, searching the alley behind her for an escape route. Luckily, there was no dead end in that direction. Just as he thought, she released his wrist. He gave her a quick shove and ran pass her towards the lanes of deserted shops until his legs complained at the exercise. There seemed to be unfriendly faces everywhere, and he wondered if they knew about his condition. His legs started complaining, and his breath coming out rugged from overexertion. He stopped and looked behind him. No one there.

He knelt down, his hands touching the side of a building, with his breath coming out heavy.

 _Good thing I lost her,_ he thought.

Remus had never read of a Knockturn Alley in his textbooks, but he never expected it to look like this, to be this gloomy. He noted the abundance of litter that sounded the streets and took in the decaying nature of the buildings with its cobwebs and cracks. It was strange, indeed. Why would an area in the Wizarding World be so unkempt when magic could easily fix everything? It was far from uninhabited, but those that stayed here didn't look trustworthy at all.

There was an open shop nearby with its signing hanging crooked. Remus decided to take a look and maybe ask the shopkeeper for directions. He knew well enough that it wasn't safe to let those on the streets know he was lost. Surely, though, a business owner offered less risk.

A small bell rang as the door opened, alerting the shopkeeper of Remus's presence, but no one came to the front. Remus scanned the area, or what little of it. There was hardly any room to move. The products were stacked up highly in an organized pile with loose papers ripped out from open books and old furniture on top. Lighting came from a single candle on the cashier's desk, and although it illuminated the room somewhat, to Remus the everything in the store appeared grey from the layers of dust. The smell of mold reached Remus's sensitive noses, and his eyes started to water in response to the painful stench.

He wandered closer to the front desk, placing his hand and leaning on the counter before he knew any better. There was something sticky at the edge. He withdrew his hands and wiped the contents of dust and misc. goo onto the front of his pants. The ornament on the desk started to give off a shimmering flow like glass reflecting sunlight.

More of the store lay beyond the counter. Two long corridors were hidden behind stacks of boxes, and portraits of figures in old fashion clothing lined the walls. From this distance, Remus couldn't identify their faces, but he doubted he could.

"Hello," Remus tried. "Someone at the front!"

A tumble of boxes and sneeze came from the first corridor. A thin man shuffled through the boxes, eliciting another large avalanche onto the ground, but he didn't seem to care for the contents as he stepped on them with his boot, earning a crunch.

"What brings you here?" the spectacle man asked, glaring at Remus from down the hall. He headed to the front of the store, tripping over boxes and kicking him afterwards.

"I need help with directions," said Remus.

The man looked at Remus with disdain and sneered. "I don't give directions."

Remus froze, not sure how to respond but continued. "How about just once since you're already here?"

"Leave," said the man curtly, turning to resume his activity.

"Wait, I got this Hogwarts letter," said Remus, desperately hoping the man would stop. It worked. "It says to come here."

The man turned swiftly. "Come here? Hogwarts directed you here, you say?"

"It says here," said Remus, unfolding his letter carefully. The man walked back to the front desk, eyeing Remus as he ripped the letter from Remus's hand (to the teen's misery) and leaning on the counter as he read. After a while, he started chuckling darkly. "You obviously gotten the wrong letter."

"But it said-"

"It's a fake," said the man, shoving the letter back at him. He seemed to take an interest in the ornament, turning it in his palm and then rising it to his eyes. The ornament gave the man a very humorous look, making it seem like he had one extremely large eye.

He swiftly put the ornament down. The man scoffed. "A werewolf, no wonder."

Remus jumped, surprised. Was it that obvious?

"How did you know?" Remus asked. Was there some mark that was obvious to wizards only?

The man glared at Remus. "Do you still need directions?"

"But you said it was a fake," Remus argued.

"I didn't realize you were a werewolf then. Now I know it's a special case," said the man in the same raspy voice. "Or should I call them over here? I'm sure they would be obliged to help knowing what you are."

Remus nodded, relieved. "Thank you. I would appreciate that."

"Please," said the man, motioning to the chair. "Have a seat. Would you like some tea?"

Remus shook his head, negative. "No, thank you."

"It's very tasty. My favorite," the man urged.

"Alright then, maybe a cup."

The shopkeeper disappeared into the second corridor, taking a right at the end. Remus could hear whispering but couldn't make out the words. A cold draft was coming from the corridor, leaving Remus wishing he had brought a jacket. He hadn't realized he would need it in the summer. And he didn't think wizards had the muggle convenience of an A/C although, now that he thought about it, they probably didn't need it. With a bit of magic, the place could be cooled. Remus supposed that's what the shopkeeper did.

Remus glanced around, looking for a seat. The shopkeeper had said for him to sit, but the man didn't mention where he could sit. Remus eventually settled on a large armchair made of pine with loose wires but very fluffy pillows, made of the same material and elaborate design as the chair (although that didn't matter considered it was covered in dust, something that looked remarkably like blood, and paper) piled on top. He collected the paper and moved it to a table nearby.

The chair creaked under his weight but supported it well enough. It wasn't as uncomfortable as he thought. And he didn't need to wait long as the shopkeeper reappeared with tea in a chipped cup. Remus accepted it with thanks and took a sip. It was lukewarm with a strong taste. "It is good," he said.

"Better drink it quickly," said the shopkeeper. "They're coming soon."

"Oh," Remus said. "Right. Thanks."

He drowned the contents.

"Here, I can take that." The shopkeeper took it from his hands and placed it on the counter, where the ornament flickered to red.

"I can wash that, if you'd like," Remus offered.

"Oh, no. No, no. You are a guest," said the shopkeeper, his voice light now. Remus was a little disturbed by the sudden change in attitude, but he convinced himself that it was more normal than he thought.

"I really appreciate you doing this," Remus said, gratefully. "especially since I was interrupting...er..."

He noticed red on the man's hands. "Do you paint?" asked Remus, curiously. He was starting to feel tired. It was a long day, after all.

"Something like that," the shopkeeper said, following Remus's eyes towards his hands. "Oh, I do enjoy it."

"It's good to have something to enjoy," Remus agreed.

A ring came from the front door.

"They'll here!" said the man with glee.

Remus turned his head, but his courage almost failed him. Standing in front of the door were a very intimidating person in ratty clothes and behind him was two well dressed auror, going on official Ministry of Magic business, it seemed. The shopkeeper went to meet them. Remus pushed himself off the chair and stepped forward. He shook their hands as a thought flickered through his mind. What if it was because he was a werewolf?

"Are you Remus Lupin?" one asked.

"Yes, I am."

"We are here to escort you to the werewolf camp." Remus felt his heart drop. "New regulations require werewolves to be bar coded."

"The camp is hidden deep in the forest," the other auror interjected. "You can roam there freely, far from wizarding kind. No one gets hurt. Not you or us."

Or us. That part made Remus feel awful. He was suddenly in a completely different category. He was the "us," and the people he grew up thinking were his people were now completely different from him, a werewolf and a squib. Remus assumed the man in the worn clothes was his representative then.


	3. Chapter 3

"You'd better finish that before he gets here," Remus's surrogate mother. The "he" was the Ministry official in charge of their district, and they had to leave before the team arrived and arrested them. This was the end of the first year he was with her, and he had just started to feel comfortable in her presence. She was a muggle woman, through and through, with a family and three children before she was bitten by a rouge werewolf. She was distraught one day and started begging to go home, where her children were. They told her she would have children here at camp and thrust the young Remus over to her care. He was hardly a substitute. The camp expected her to be maternal with her experience as a mother, but she couldn't muster affection for Remus. Remus didn't blame her. He wasn't her child, and she had exactly accepted the job willingly.

"Where are we going?" Remus asked.

"Somewhere," she said, shuffling up the hill without him. That hadn't answered his questions, but it was a short answer, as Remus learned, meant to quiet him.

When he had first arrived at the werewolf camp after being bar coded at the Ministry, Remus had felt lost and out of place. He still felt like that with everyone. There were werewolves who were content with living here, far from civilization and in the woods like animals. Remus wasn't one of them. He felt like they only played to further the stereotype against those with lycanthropy.

"Can I stay here?" said Remus, ignoring her warnings.

"You can't stay here neither," she replied, rumbling with her words. The heat seemed to be getting to her. "I mean, either."

Unbeknownst to Remus, who was a step up from a pup to the werewolf pack, there was never a law that forbid the encroachment of wizards on land allotted to werewolves. Werewolves could either be law-abiding citizens, muggles or foreigners, or criminals. If a large population of wizards chose to live near the camp, the werewolf packs would be forced to leave. Living beside the wizards were a threat to life and werewolves that did so were going against the Wizarding law and, thus, faced to criminal offenses should they refuse to leave. It forbade werewolves from intruding on the Wizarding World.

He heard it much later, once they had already started traveling, from a few disgruntled werewolves up the rankings.

"That's fair," Remus said quietly. "We could hurt someone if we get too close."

That earned him a snort from a werewolf his age. "You actually believe that? You really eat up all that garbage, don't you?"

"Well, we're not friendly, either," Remus retorted, heatedly. "Not during the full moon."

"It's not the full moon, now, is it, Remy?" Bodolf shot back.

"Don't call me that," Remus hissed at him before running up ahead to meet his surrogate mother. He felt Bodolf's glare on his back as he met with his the middle aged woman, slowing down from the heavy bags on her back.

"Mar," Remus called to his surrogate mother. Her actual name was Margret, but he wasn't allowed to call her that. The pack preferred that he referred to her maternally, but neither he nor her wanted it. "Mother" and "mum" reminded him of his mother, and Remus wasn't willing to give those titles up to a strange so he called her "Mar," a shortened version of her name that sounded very similar to the word "Ma." "Do you need help?"

She brushed him aside. "Mind your own things. Don't go around doing that if you can't even manage your own. D'you think I can't carry this?"

"You look tired," Remus said, concerned.

"Should look at yourself. Then, tell me if I'm tired," she said. "You're not helping. Be quiet and let me do what I need to do."

Remus nodded, falling into pace with her. He felt like she would collapsed at any minute, and he wanted to offer help if she did, but she was right. He was having a very hard time with his own load even after emptying most of the contents, having no emotional attachment to the items.

"Argh," she cried in frustration. "I forgot it." She turned to Remus. "If you want to help, go back and get my necklace. I have to get to the new site by noon for a head count."

Remus nodded. "Alright. But I don't know where the new site is."

"Ah, damn," she said. "I never told you. Bodolf!"

Bodolf was ahead of them now. "What?" He called.

"I need you to go back with Remus."

"Why are you turning back?" said Bodolf, irritated. "We're almost there."

"Don't give me that tone. Just do it," she snapped.

Bodolf huffed but didn't argue, brushing pass Remus. When they were far enough,

"Why'd she want that necklace for?" asked Bodolf.

"Sentimental reasons," said Remus quietly. "It has a picture of her family in it."

The forest floor had been wild and unearth before the arrived. Now, there was a clearly path where the pack had trodden over dirt, stone, and wild plants. "You can go ahead," Remus said. "I can go from here."

"What about the new site?" said Bodolf.

"What about it?" Remus called. The way back was steeper than he had reminded. He had lost his footing and tried to catch himself on a nearby tree, grabbing the branch instead. It snapped, and he landed on his bottom with a few scrapes along his arm.

"Oh, you look alright," Bodolf said sarcastically. "Any directions on you?"

"No, but I think I'd find you all. We walk like giants."

"Fine," said Bodolf, who left quickly, happy to continue make his way to the new site and unload.

Remus picked himself up, brushing dirt off his clothes and continued more carefully back to the old camp.

The camp was disgusting. There was trash everywhere and urine stains and clumps of feces on the earth floor with flies buzzing around everywhere. Remus remembered those, but he didn't think he'd have to come back to it. By the time that the order was issued, most werewolves just gave up. There was no point in keeping it clean anymore because they weren't going to live there so they took liberties when relieving themselves. Remus wasn't sure if anyone wanted to live here anymore. Even if the wizards left for sanitary reasons, the pack wouldn't return for the same reasons.

Someone mirrored his opinions. "This is disgusting," Remus heard. "They actually lived here?"

"Not anymore," said another wizard, a very handsome young man. "Guess we just missed them."

"Shame. Thought we were going to see werewolves," said a spectacled youth. "Would have been more interesting than a pile of dung."

Remus watched them approach the area where Margaret and him had stayed, a small makeshift cottage with the basics. He hadn't liked it at first. There were too many spiders; the draft during winter was terrible; and he wondered briefly if the pack would be attacked by actual wolves at night. Leaving it, however, felt strange. When they entered the house, Remus moved closer to the camp, not too quietly, for the handsome young man stepped outside.

"D'you hear something, James?" said the black haired teen.

"No," called James from inside. "Sirius, look here, a Hogwarts letter, not sure what good that's to them, and a necklace."

Remus felt his heart drop and embarrassment rise at the thought of someone finding the fake letter. Get yourself together, he thought. They have Margaret's necklace. He just hoped that they were leave it behind.

"Let's head back," said Sirius. "They're not here."

James exited the cottage, holding the necklace in his hand. He held it up to the light. "Keeping this."

"I don't think Lily will like that, mate," said Sirius.

"Who says it's for Lily?" said James, pocketing the jewelry in his pocket.

"Is there someone else you fancy then?" said Sirius, jokingly. He turned, facing Remus, and his smile dropped. Remus froze. "Someone's in there, James."

He reached into his cloak and pulled out his wand, pointing it at Remus as a warning.

James followed Sirius gaze. "Hey!" James called.

Remus thought quickly. He needed to head towards the new site, and Margaret wouldn't like it if he got into trouble with wizards. But that necklace meant a lot to her. He couldn't leave without it. He turned and ran.

" _Aresto Momentum_ ," Sirius shouted, aiming his wand at the young werewolf. Remus was running at full speed, but it seemed like he was in slow motion. The two ran through the brushes and watching the werewolf mockingly. When the hex wore off, much faster than they expected, Remus raced towards lads and knocked James to the ground, reaching for the necklace.

Sirius uttered another spell, but Remus couldn't hear it as he was shoved off the spectacled young man and thrown to the ground. Sirius kept his wand pointed at the werewolf threateningly.

"Move, and I'll hex you," warned Sirius.

No one moved.

"Hands up," Sirius ordered.

Remus eyed him cautiously but complied, raising his hands in surrender.

"What are you trying to do anyway?" said James to Remus, pushing himself onto his feet.

Remus said nothing at first, thinking hard. They had the upper hand now with their wands. One wrong word and he could end up surrounded by Dementors, never mind losing the necklace, but he had to say something. Otherwise, they'll get impatient. He could take the honest route and ask for the necklace, but he didn't think they would give it up easily, not without something in return. There was a glint in their eyes, a rebellious nature that wanted to fool around, play a game of cat and mouse so long as they were the predators. Based on their conversations, they had gone straight towards a werewolf camp hoping to catch a glimpse of the creatures like going to a circus where exotic animals were jailed and held up for display.

"He's suddenly gone mute, James," Sirius observed and then said in a louder voice to Remus. "He asked you a question."

He had to say something, but his mind went blank. Perhaps the honest route would be best. It was the only answer he could conjure, and it wasn't very hard considering it had been there the entire time. "I was sent here to retrieve the necklace in cottage."

"That was yours?" James asked. He reached into his pockets, but his hand came out empty. "Thought I had it in here. Where...?" He clicked his tongue. "Sorry, I had it a minute ago."

Remus's eyes scanned the area, stopping at the glint on the ground. "There."

Sirius's eyes flickered to James, who had turned and reached down for the silver jewelry. _That could have been my chance_ , thought Remus.

"Glad you didn't get distracted," said James.

"I bet this one's hoping we both had," Sirius taunted, keeping his wand trained on Remus. "Think you can be a bit more vicious, werewolf? Come on, don't have to hide it."

Remus glared at him. "This is as much as you get."

"Always so nice?" Sirius asked.

"Yes, I'd say I have it in me," said Remus, stubbornly. A few hours ago, he would've argued that he had the opposite in him, but at that moment he felt strongly for the other side of the argument, which proved overtime to be equally apparent and sometimes more so. "Not so sure about you."

"Watch it," Sirius warned.

"Why?" Remus continued boldly. "Because you have a wand to subjugate everyone and make them bend to your rules?"

"Silencio," Sirius whispered. The handsome young man's face broke into a grin. His wand was stayed where it was, ready to draw out spells if needed.

"Think we should keep it James?" Sirius asked. "Be doing him a favor. He can't have it. It's made of pure silver."

James shrugged. "I'm not sure if Lily's going to like it. It's very old fashion."

"I'll take it then," Sirius offered. He noticed Remus struggling to produce sound and muttered the counter spell. "Alright, there you go."

"That necklace," Remus blurted out, struggling to catch his breath. "It's not yours."

"Fair enough," said James. "But it can't be yours."

"How'd you know?" Remus cried. "I've lived in that cottage. That's more than what you can say."

"Can't say that's a cottage. A bit run down," Sirius commented. "But this place's not yours anymore. You're supposed to be long gone."

"You use any logic that benefits you. It doesn't matter how wrong it is," Remus said. "Please, I just need that necklace. It's not mine. It's my friend's. Her family's pictures are in it."

Sirius gave James a sideways glance. James looked down at the necklace and pried it open. Remus winced when he saw a small screw fall to the open. "Be careful," Remus uttered. "It's fragile."

"Sorry," James muttered. He removed the broken lid from the end and wiped the glass a few times. "A portrait of a family. Who's your friend?"

"She's the mum," Remus said.

"There's a mum," James verified. "Definitely don't think Lily would want a stolen necklace with a stranger's family in it. Still want it, Sirius?"

"Might as well give it to him," Sirius sighed at last. "Not like we're going to do anything with it."

James tossed it to Remus, who caught it and then dropped it as if burned.

"Shouldn't have done that, James. Werewolves can't stand the silver," said Sirius.

"Why'd you go and do that?" James shouted, guilt seeping in. "Got a death wish?"

"It was a reflex," Remus argued. "You were one who threw it."

"Now, what?" James asked.

Sirius said, "Well, a few options: abandon him with his burn and his skin burning necklace. Let him figure out what to do, seems very Slytherin-like-"

"I like that option," Remus interrupted. "It'll get me away from you two."

"-Or bring in the werewolf for some tea."

* * *

"I meant to offer you tea and biscuits, but I'd forgotten it's been out since yesterday," said Sirius, coming back from the kitchen with empty hands. The tent they were in appeared small from the outside, like a normal muggle tent, but it was very large inside, enough to fit five people.

"No need to offer me anything," said Remus. "I've got to be going."

"What about chocolate?" said Sirius. "Do you like those?"

"I'm not a kid," said Remus. "I don't need candy."

"Into the rubbish then," Sirius said, heading towards the dumpster.

"Wait!" Remus called after him. "I can take it."

"Thought you didn't like candy," said Sirius, eyebrow raised.

"Chocolate is more than candy," Remus replied.

Sirius turned the chocolate bar in his hand and hummed. "No, think it's the same."

"Hand it over," Remus demanded, holding out his hand. Sirius deposited the chocolate bar in his hands and pulled out a chair, settling right in. Remus unwrapped the chocolate bar and took a small bite, satisfied to hear the clear, crisp sound of the small piece snapping off. It melted in his mouth. "Mmm. It's delicious," said Remus without looking at Sirius. "Thank you."

Remus took another bite, fully enjoying the sweet.

Sirius had leaned back so that his chair was balanced on two legs. It made Remus nervous, worried that the handsome wizard would tilt over at some point. "Can you sit properly?" said Remus.

"No more than you can eat properly," Sirius said, nodding at Remus's chin. "There's chocolate smeared all over your face. Do you always eat like that?"

"Be quiet, you," Remus admonished.

"No, not 'you,'" said Sirius. "I'm Sirius Black."

"Well, Sirius Black, be quiet."

"You haven't said please," said Sirius.

"I'm not entitled to. Like you said, I'm a werewolf."

James had received a letter from his parents asking him to return for a family reunion. The owl must have gotten lost along the way, for the date on the letter was marked that day. The spectacle wearing young man hastened home to grab a formal wear with intentions of making it to the party. Sirius wasn't very happy with his best friend leaving him behind and for a family party, no lest. He felt a tad bit envious of Jame's family and bitter that he wasn't included. They were extended family, James had said, and only invited relatives.

Sirius was left to patch up Remus's small wound, but he was more interested in playing host.

"It's been nice, but I can't stay," said Remus.

"You've still got your burns," said Sirius.

"Do you really intend to mend them?" asked Remus seriously. "I've only seen you throw food on my platter."

"Thought we could make peace," said Sirius. "You haven't bitten off my head, and I haven't hexed you to oblivion. I'd say that's a great start."

"I did like the chocolate," Remus confided.

"A major step forward towards peaceful relations, then," said Sirius. "Are all werewolves like you?"

"Like me in what way?" Remus said.

"Non-growling, biting sort."

"'Non-growling, biting sort,' Merlin's beard, Black, we're not dogs."

"Definitely not dogs. At least, they're domesticated. They don't go on rampages, biting and turning wizards."

"If I could control the wolf," said Remus, hurt. He wasn't sure why he felt so hurt. Werewolves were both human and wolves so there wasn't a complete flaw in Sirius's logic, and it was true those with lycanthropy were unable to control themselves during the full moon, but they weren't animals. They were human beings first. The other part happened once per month, twelve days out of 365 days in a year, and yet the Wizarding World only saw those twelve days. "I would."

"What about the rest of you?" said Sirius. "The ones who went everywhere. I didn't see a designated loo, but I did see a lot of what should have been in it everywhere but."

"We're not dogs, Black," Remus repeated.

"The Ministry has you labeled as an animal, but you don't... Supposed they're wrong, then..."

"Help me fix this, won't you?" Remus motioned to his burn, successfully diverting the conversation away from werewolves.

Sirius muttered a healing spell. There was a sting, but it slowly faded.

"How would you label yourself?" asked Sirius.

"Not sure if it was meant to be labeled," said Remus. "I've always thought I was human, for the most part."

Remus made an excuse and headed out of the tent although he felt rather guilty for leaving Black alone. He wasn't sure why as the wizard was such pain. The werewolf departed for the camp and after a few hours of following marked trees and heavy footprints, he could see the edge of the camp. There was a rustling in the woods, and someone cursed. Remus turned, reckoning the voice. How can one not?

"Merlin, Black, are you following me?" Remus shouted. "Couldn't think of anything criminal to do today?"

"Fuck off, werewolf. I'd say the same about you."

"Are you bringing that up again? Is it so fun to taunt the werewolf?" He felt so angry now especially since they were so close to the camp. How can this wizard be so stupid as to jeopardize the peaceful relations between the Wizarding World and the werewolf packs?

"Well, why'd you have to bring that up again?" Sirius said, appearing from out of his hiding place in the bushes, covered in broken leaves. Remus found it entertaining that the noble Black with his haughty and handsome features so flustered from his terrible trek into the mountains. "You think my family's evil? Fine. I'd have agreed. Me? I'm as nice as they get."

"What's your family got to do with it?"

"They're the Blacks," Sirius spat. "'the noble and most ancient house of Black'."

"I didn't realize who you were," Remus said sarcastically. "Should I kiss your feet? Why _are_ you following me anyway?"

Sirius muttered something under his breath.

"What?" Remus said, straining his ear to hear. No sensitive ears here; he didn't have any amazing werewolf powers. "I didn't quite hear you."

"I wanted to..." Sirius trailed, drawing his mouth into a thin. "Sorry for...about earlier. Calling you... Implying you, I mean, werewolves, which you're one of them, of course...were like dogs. I didn't mean to..."

"Lost for words?" Remus observed.

"Yeah," Sirius nodded. "Happens at times."

"You don't seem like the kind to go apologizing either."

"Well, I'm human. Can't go generalizing the entire population just because of one."

"I know the feeling," Remus said bitterly.

"Yeah," Sirius said, rubbing his neck. "Sorry about that."

"You didn't need to apologize," Remus replied. "I'm used to it."

"Well, I said it anyway so...there."

"I'm sorry as well," Remus said finally. "You're not evil. Just a prick."

* * *

Author's Note:

 _Oops, being hexed by your future love interest._

 _I never said that I had a positive love life to draw off of. It was one of those passing fancies where you're so drunk off of infatuation that you hardly see how wrong you two are for each other. And once that stage wears off after a couple of months, you just look at that person and wonder, "Why are we doing this? What's the point?" It's definitely better being single, if not with the right person._


End file.
